The First Pope

I'll Probably Die With Boots On., originally uploaded by Christopher Rauch.

Alrighty...this is my first paper, for my Religion 213 class (an overview of the New Testament). Gotta 97! whoo hoo. I made a small edit, and seem to have lost the copy of the file that had my works cited page. I pulled from Scripture, Grace Awakening by Swindoll, and If You Want To Walk On Water, You've Got To Get Out Of the Boat. I have been SO busy, it seems I have no time to write for pleasure, lately. :D

 

The First Pope

We tend to forget that Simon Peter walked on water. Not that most of us would get the question wrong on a test; it’s just a fact that seems to float under the radar. It seems almost fashionable to take a friendly swipe at Peter anytime he comes up in a conversation, or a sermon. He has had several hi-profile embarrassing moments that Pastors love to use as illustrations. To give Simon Peter credit for a little humility, much of this information is purportedly from his own mouth, recorded by Mark in his Gospel. Peter’s fame for dropping the ball, and his chronic attacks of hoof in mouth overshadow a down to earth forthrightness, an insight into his own shortcomings, and a childlike regard for Jesus. This simple, flawed love for Christ, so easy to poke fun at, was the vehicle chosen by God reveal the ultimate reality. Peter, in spite of all his flaws, intuitively knows that his friend, this man he follows, is the Son of God. Peter’s all too human foibles leaves the common man uneasily aware that, though he may be the antithesis of a spiritual giant, great piety is nonetheless within his grasp and with it the potential (and perhaps obligation) for remarkable performance in furthering the Kingdom of God.

Peter has echoes of everyman within him. We may be judgmental of Peter's hypocrisy, and amazed at his ability to put his foot in mouth. Nonetheless, in our dismay and amusement, as we take note of his performance, he jogs our memory, and we recognize ourselves in his failings as we also see in his faith and bravery a benchmark that we can aspire to. Peter resembles us at our most unflattering and therein lies the attraction: Even Simon Peter can walk on water when he is focused on Jesus. Naturally faith can falter when our attention is centered on our fear. We see this when Peter starts to sink because he “saw the wind” and we relate immediately. The dynamics of this are so familiar they seem almost humorous. We would expect the same of ourselves and privately feel we may have actually lacked the courage to get out of the boat, as over ninety percent of the passengers did that day .

According to Zondervan’s Pictorial Encyclopedia of the Bible, Peter and Andrew were fishermen like their father, called John or Jonah, depending on which Gospel you consult. The family had relocated from Bethsaida when Jesus met them in Capernaum, and it is speculated they may have been in business with James and John. Peter also had a mother-in-law with everything that implied.  The Encyclopedia goes on to detail Simon Peter’s prominent role in the New Testament. Not only is Peter the first individual introduced to Jesus by a Disciple (his brother, Andrew) but few dispute Peter’s leadership of the early Church. Galatians (2:8-9) tells us that Peter had a special commission to carry the message to the Jews, and of course Simon Peter is a main character in the gospels, and the Acts of the Apostles. Peter is also well represented in early Christian apocryphal writings.

It can seem puzzling, that Jesus left Peter rather than John in charge. We would expect Jesus to entrust the care of his mother to the man who was kindest, closest to him, and most dependable. John also has a less spectacular record in misadventure. In terms of how the World chooses the leader of an important organization, Peter is a dark horse, an unlikely candidate, not the most qualified applicant. Why does Jesus leave Peter in charge?

 Perhaps Peter’s character, with its clay feet, is held up to keep us from discouragement, and provide example and inspiration to people like Peter... people famous for dropping the ball, and  chronic attacks of hoof in mouth. Studying Simon Peter comforts people who aspire to forthrightness, but have an insight into their own shortcomings. People seeking to cultivate a childlike regard for Jesus can look to Peter for an example.  Aware of our less than pristine condition as Simon Peter was (Luke 5:8), we can perhaps come to terms with our audacity as we consider reasoning through doctrine, or accepting a leadership role among our peers. As we look at Peter’s resume we can be reassured that our all-too-visible human nature does not disqualify us from service to God. Though Peter displays cowardice, He grows in stature and later approaches his death with dignified clarity. If we can believe the apocryphal Acts of Peter , Peter requests “I beseech you the executioners, crucify me thus, with the head downward”.

Peter is also famously guilty for having “little faith”, and doubts that can sink a miracle. These memories play a part in shaping the humility Peter develops with maturity. We see the benefits of this in instances where Peter is cautious in his endorsement of doctrine:

For it seemed best to the Holy Spirit and to us  not to place any greater burden on you than these necessary rules: that you abstain from meat that has been sacrificed to idols  and from blood and from what has been strangled  and from sexual immorality.   If you keep yourselves from doing these things,  you will do well. Farewell.

 

Peter was a Jerusalem Rock Star. He was a redneck fisherman who hung with Jesus, and healed people miraculously in public. More then once, the bible portrays Simon Peter as having a defective filter between his brain and his mouth. Now if this man heard audible direction from God, in an environment where such things were known to happen, We would expect him to say something like "God told me that was WRONG”, not to use a word like "seems".  Perhaps this is the proper model for assimilating newcomers of a radically different lifestyle into the Church family. Peter is careful not to present his prayerful consideration as the clear directive of the Holy Spirit.This cuts down on a man's tendency to burn heretics

Discomfort

Double Take, or "Hope It's a Dolphin!", originally uploaded by Christopher Rauch.

    When things are good I feel like God is with me. When things are bad...well that's different. Unfairly, something in me cries out in disappointment with God. It is what it is. After all, what does he expect? It is even (possibly) good theology. Just not mine. Rich Stearns puts forth some fascinating writing of what God expects of us in The Hole in Our Gospel, and I agree with him, even to the point of feeling he is a little too gentle with some uncomfortable truths. There is a popular Evangelical concept of personal intimacy with the Maker of All Things, and I struggle with this. Perhaps this intimacy occurs in the invisible world, the connection rooted in the part of my soul that protrudes into it, a spiritual pseudopod. Frankly, God seldom answers my questions in a tangible way, and I have spent greater than average effort and resources to facilitate some type of tangible interactive relationship with this Person. I read a collection of documents about him, bound together in a format that many people worship. These documents place him at the scene, either party to or the driving force behind multiple atrocities.
     They also say he loves me, and simple stories of incredible depth and impact paint a picture of paradox and complexity, seductive with promises of fulfillment and terrifyingly vague about my personal hopes and dreams. Few events build my sense of trust, and the disillusionment of my middle age, has necessitated a much more vigorous seeking in order to retain a faith in God's goodness. Even now, my beliefs dovetail neatly with the biblical principle that God's plan often involves life totally sucking for someone who loves him. Not a comfortable place to be. I have reached few conclusions, but have come up with some pretty good questions.
     There is a cultural ideal in North American Religianity of a personal one-on-one relationship with Jesus of Nazareth. You will hear people relate information obtained by communion with God, descriptions of quite meditations, and wordless spiritual 'listening'. Sudden conviction that a sentence uttered from mortal lips is a message from the Divine. Much of this is nebulous and leaves some people with feelings of unworthiness, and inadequacy...because it doesn't happen to them, or not as consistently.
     Perhaps much of this is bullshit.
     Forgive me, but I've been waiting for years for someone to say it, and I've reached the end of my patience. I realize you may be an exception, but that just proves how special you are. Whether we view God as our father, groom (EWW!), master, or friend, we are undeniably directed to view each other as neighbors, brethren, family.
     So.
     Last night one of my sisters in a third world country was beaten and raped while out prostituting because she was hungry. She performs for less than a dollar. She probably was HIV positive, or soon will be. Because she was taken so brutally, she will be to sore to work for a while, and will drop a little further toward death by starvation.
     Meanwhile, I went to a bar upset over a couple personal situations. I called a friend from my small group, and went out to temporarily avoid my feelings. I spent maybe 16 dollars in gas, beer and cigarettes. I went home and was struck by the things that seemed missing in my life in spite of my praying for them, and like most nights when I am in pain, I thought God seems distant, and wondered why, and wished it wasn't so. I wondered why God doesn't talk to me as clearly or as often as I would like, even though he must know that I want this so badly.
     Lately, over the last 90 days or so I have wondered about God as a father, and fathers in general. I think about how a father feels when a child is selfish or thoughtless, and a sibling suffers needlessly because of it. I think about what my Dad would have said if my sister was doing without something she needed, while I had plenty and was distracting myself from my luxury with my sister's salvation. Maybe I should be appreciative of the divine silence, and get off my ass before it comes to an end. Maybe God doesn't speak because he is holding his temper.

Blissful Ignorance.

Elsie, originally uploaded by Christopher Rauch.

     This is Elsie, at a few weeks old. At this point all the pups were up for grabs, and I actually didn't appreciate the fact that Debbie began naming them. Don't name the pups, I said.  It's not a good idea. The name Elsie evolved because there were two pups with the black and white coloring that made me think of Chik-fil-A, and I had begun refferring to them as 'The Holsteins'. Elsie was the girl, so she got the girl cow name. I was always gonna keep at least one, and wisely, I presented the ugliest puppies first for adoption. This is always the best policy. Elsie was the last pup standing, but I'd had my eye on her for a while. She was family (I have no biological children. I'm blessed to be claimed as a father by Kelsie, something I find mysterious, terrifying, and delightful). Elsie was the third member of my little 1 man 2 dog household, and she's been gone now for a couple weeks.
     I like to walk a little footpath in north Georgia, that makes about a three day circle. A couple times a year. It gives me a quietness inside. A silence that bathes my spirit. I think I am pretty severely ADD. I think if I could live in the mountains, I might be almost normal, my true self. My mind slows and thoughts obtain a rare clarity for me. I was looking forward to trip in the spring, until Chemistry 101 happened. I probably would have been alright, but an out of town job contributed to me falling behind which is not good in chemistry, particularly for a high school dropout with pathetic math skills. I began to fear for my grade. I have bad grades on my transcript from 25 years ago that haunt me. They have kept me out of the school of my choice. Impeccable academic performance by a man in his forties who is sick of life kicking his ass has brought my average up and dreams are looking possible, slightly. Bad grades must not happen again. I pushed back work, reading for pleasure (addict. me.) sleep. Quality time with Debbie. I found killer study aids on Youtube and for six weeks let the rest of my life go to hell. Now I cans configger E-lectrons reel goods, though. Like a mutha fucka, as they say. I guess I spent the summer trying to do the usual financial catchup along with the 6 weeks of academic leave, which hit me in the wallet at a fairly lucrative time of year for a housepainter/carpenter. It was also embarrassing. I am a good student, and chemistry humbled me. Another quarter went by, with no walk in the north Georgia Mountains. Schools back in, and I really felt like a little green solitude was the only thing that would keep sane enough to get through this quarter (This seems pitifully immature, now). I finished up a job and began rushed preparations. I had a sudden brainstorm...I could borrow a canoe and spend three or four days on the Flint River. I could cut my gasoline requirement in half, and take less expensive food. And Beer. I had never taken an overnight canoe trip, but I'm outdoorsy. I've been in a canoe. How hard can it be?

What's in a name?

originally uploaded by Christopher Rauch

     My url is no longer my name. :( this has opened up a couple questions for me. When you buy a domain, who gets that money? What makes them special? how does that work? I guess we'll do a little homework on all that stuff, and probably think over a couple formats. Some of the code in my widgets is irrelevant since the change in uri, so my layout needs much tweaking. If I had a twelve-year old old, I'd make him learn HTML. (No X-box until the blog is updated!). Oh, well.
     Also...it occurs to me I should have a separate photo blog/site.
     Another thing... some of the stuff I think needs to be said on matters of morality, ethics, and God lies outside my testicular umbrella (Read: He doesn't have the balls to write about that shit with his name attached.) so I am thinking about an anonoblog. One last thing...I like the idea of an ongoing conversation of theological amatures. (ya know...the mozilla spellcheck isn't familiar with "amature", but on the web it is most often used in conjunction with "slut". Thanks, Google!) where the resposibility of thinking deeply and coming up with something relevant is spread out amongst a few individuals who think rightly. Of course, I would be the judge of that. LOL.                Chemistry has taken a huge toll. There are no words (that I can come up with at this time...I need to get back to studying) The quarter ends Thursday, and I think a little soul-searching is in order. I have not rambled, whined, speculated, or ranted near as much as I need to, but I will soon.

cropped pan SOOC, Tanner and Beethoven

cropped pan SOOC, Tanner and Beethoven, originally uploaded by Christopher Rauch.

Overexposed...But it grew on me. This is utter unedited, except for the crop. The large aperture letss you use a much faster shutter speed, minimizing your shake...giving your pictures the clarity of steady hands  I overexpose a lot more stuff with the 50 mil. I love my new lens. Mucho booty kickin'. It makes me look good. This view is through the slats of a little fence I hurriedly threw up... the puppies are off the chain, and roaming about the backyard at will. The stress of having to deal with either an escape attempt or long periods sleeping somewhere I can't find them is ...well, stressful. Yesterday, two of the sons of bitches, talked thier innocent sister, who is my favorite that I may keep, into disappearing for 45 minutes under the shed. I fruited. I was positive a hawk got 'em.
Tanner really looks better on a WHITE background